A Parking Story

Let me tell you a story.

I'm awful at parking.

While dating, Taylor used to laugh at me and my parking skills (or complete lack thereof).

But Taylor has realized that it's come to the point that "laughing about it" isn't cutting it anymore.

So, he has resorted to re-teaching me how to park.

I pretty much get a little lesson every time we are about to park.

I act like I'm really paying attention and really focused on his parking lectures, but secretly, I am holding back my laughter until he gets out of the car. 

Because really...how ridiculous is this situation?

I am 21 years old, and my husband is teaching me how to park a car.

 And the saddest part?

I desperately need these lessons.

Don't believe me?

Take a look for yourself:

Taylor is trying to measure how far away I was from the curb....ha.

New day....same parking problem.

Taylor reparking the car.

I don't have a picture of trying to park in a parking lot.

But just imagine this little scene:

Taylor holding his breath and saying, "Think skinny thoughts, think skinny thoughts" every time he tries to get out of the car.

A debacle that usually lasts a good minute or two, because he is being so careful not to hit the car next to us with his door.

I tend to park very close to the car on the right-hand side of us.

Whoops. Sorry, Tay.

Oh, and look what I have:

A video of Taylor teaching me how to park so that he has enough room to park his truck behind my car.

Enjoy!

The theme of this little saga?

I am awful at parking.

And Taylor is significantly embarrassed.

The end.

August 6th

On August 6th, 2011, Taylor Ray got down on one knee and asked me a question I was so excited to say "yes" to.

The cute boy had me completely fooled.  I thought for sure, I would know when he was going to propose.  But he did such a good job at fooling me the entire day!

I'll have to have a blog post dedicated to that story.

See here for more details on our love story :)

Taylor proposed to me at the beautiful Stewart Falls.  We decided after we got engaged, that we would make it a tradition to hike Stewart Falls every year on August 6th.  No matter where we are in life, no matter what state we may be living in, I plan to take a trip to Utah to hike Stewart Falls on August 6th, until my limbs are too weak to make the memory-filled hike.

Here are pictures of Taylor and I celebrating our one year engagement anniversary at the top of Stewart Falls.  There was no one around to take a picture of us, so we struggled taking a good phone picture of the two of us together. But, here are our best attempts:

You know you spend too much time with someone when you make the exact same face, completely on accident, in a picture!

Hi, pretty ring!

Taylor's showing off his muscles...I'm just pointing to the waterfalls. Haha

Thanks, husband.

Don't really know what's happening here, but this one made me laugh.

Look closely... see that water bottle in the brush? Taylor and I joked that this was the same water bottle that I dropped from excitement after he proposed.  Ha...it very well might be! (see video at the end of this post and watch for the water bottle drop!)

As we were huffing while hiking, Taylor jokingly turned to me and said, "Why didn't I propose to you on a wave-runner?"

I could not stop laughing after that.

He told me that after years and years of hiking this, our future boys would ask him (in their best whining voices), "Dad, why did you have to propose to Mom at the top of a mountain?"

And Dad will reply, "So I could teach you how not to propose. I did it for you, boys."

Haha...even though he joked about it, we both loved every second of reliving such a beautiful memory. :)

Here is the video of that special day one year ago :)

Dear husband, Thank you so much for proposing to me. Thank you for giving me the most beautiful ring. Thank you for being my very best friend and eternal companion through this life. Thank you for making me want to be a better person every day. I love you.
"Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same." -Emily Bronte

Thank you.

Yesterday late afternoon, I suddenly felt overwhelmingly nauseous.

(no, I'm not pregnant)

I was trying to hold it together at work and pound out the last two hours,

but finally had to bail and go home.

On the way home, I was trying really hard to focus on the songs on the radio, and not on the fact that I was about to lose my lunch (ravioli to be exact).

But, that was to no avail.

Because I had to pull over on the side of the road, and throw up for all passerby's to see.

The ravioli wasn't pretty.

I thought about taking a picture, but I wanted to get back in the car and drive home more. 

Then I thought, "Who really wants to see a picture of this?" 

So, lucky you. No picture. 

Anyways, I laid in bed for the rest of the afternoon and evening, and slept my nausea away (mostly).

My husband was so worried about me, and it was really sweet. He wanted to do everything he could to help me feel better.

It reminded me of a time about two months after we got married:

I had a really bad UTI (#typicalmormongirlproblems).

Taylor kept telling me to go to the doctor, but I insisted that I was just fine.

Then, my kidneys started to hurt, and I was throwing up like crazy.  So I decided going to the doctor would be a good idea. 

It was actually the same week as finals...so, as you can imagine, this was an awesome week for me.

Not.

After throwing up all day, I fell asleep on the couch in the living room at around 7pm.

When I woke up at two in the morning, my sweet husband was laying on the floor next to the couch, fast asleep.

Even though there was another couch about four feet away, he chose to sleep on the ground, so he could be right next to me to help me if I needed it.

I was overwhelmed with gratitude for this wonderful man.

I woke up again at six in the morning. 

He was still there, on the ground.

And he was holding my hand.

Yesterday morning, I made a list of chores I wanted to get done that evening (you know, before I knew that I'd end up getting sick).

I obviously didn't make it to that chore list.

But when I woke up this morning, the list was gone.

And everything that I had on the list had been done.

Leprechauns? Angels? Little mice?

No.

 Just my wonderful husband.

My wonderful husband who cared for me until I fell asleep.

And then started on that chore list. 

And didn't finish until the whole list was complete...even though he was up until 12:30am doing it, and had to work early the next morning.

But he wanted to make sure everything on that list was finished.

Just for me.

Growing up, my dad used to always "baby" me and my siblings when we weren't feeling well.

When we were sick, he would make sure our beds were just how we liked them.

He would call to check up on us (if he was at work), or come into our rooms (if he was home) to make sure we were doing okay.

He would even give us a bell to put on our nightstands.

If we needed anything, we just had to ring the bell, and he'd come.

Awesome, right?

We only got this treatment if we were sick though. ;)

He'd buy us a Jamba Juice if our throats hurt, some 7-up and crackers if our stomachs hurt, and even milkshakes if our hearts hurt.

I love getting taken care of when I'm sick.

I got spoiled when I was a kid. 

By my wonderful daddy.

And I'm getting spoiled as an adult.

By my wonderful husband.

How did I get so lucky?

Still trying to figure this out.

Thank you, Dad.

Thank you, husband.

I love you both.

The desired forgettable, yet unforgettable moments of marriage, Part 2

Part 2 of the desired forgettable, yet unforgettable moments of marriage is here!

See this if you missed part 1. Hopefully, you won't regret taking a moment to read that one first before you plunge ahead to this post.

Let's refresh what this post is about: 

We all have these moments, don't we?  You know, the moments that you never want to relive.  The moments that you pray everyone will forget.  The moments that make your cheeks turn red just thinking about it.  The moments you wish you could forget, but you know will never be forgotten.  Well, I figured since there was no hope of these memories ever being forgotten, I might as well record them.  So please, enjoy mine and Taylor's desired forgettable, yet unforgettable moments of marriage.

So, you ready?  Here goes,
 Part 2:
For the past few months, Taylor has been going to the gym with his dad every morning.  The other day, while we were both in the bathroom getting ready, I turned to Taylor and asked, "So, which particular muscles are you working on?"

Taylor named off a few, and then gave me a quizzical look, "Why?"
I obviously wasn't thinking, because I answered with the truth, when I should have answered with a lie.
"I just wanted to know, so I knew which muscles to compliment."
 As soon as that came out of my mouth, I slapped my hand to my mouth and whispered, "Dang it." 
Definitely ruined that. Good job, wife.
You weren't supposed to tell him that was why you were asking!
Now, whenever I compliment Taylor and his cute sexy muscles, Tay always just laughs and rolls his eyes.   
No muscle compliment from the wife is taken as a sincere complement from here on out.
Dang it, dang it, dang it.


A couple of Saturdays ago, Taylor woke up much earlier than I did.  He started playing video games, while he waited for me to wake up.  The handsome boy just didn't realize how loud the surround system was.  
So, half-asleep I yelled from the bedroom:
"David!"
No response.
Still half-asleep: "David!"
No response.
Still half-asleep: "David, can you turn that down?"
Taylor walked into the bedroom slowly.  "Did you just call me David? Multiple times?"
I opened my eyes, this time fully awake, and said, "Yeah....yeah...I did.  Who's David?"
"That's what I wanted to ask you." Taylor said as he playfully winked at me. "Who's David, and why is my wife thinking about him first thing in the morning?"
I just started laughing.  Who the heck is David? I hardly even know a David!
Don't worry, dearest husband, you have nothing to worry about.  I was thinking about you first thing in the morning...I just couldn't remember your name. ;)


Taylor came home one day and said to me as he walked into the door, "Hello, my chubby bride!"
His face looked just as surprised as mine when the words came out of his mouth.
"I...have...no idea why I just said that...." Taylor said, with a confused look on his face.
Now, the nickname has stuck...just for kicks. ;) 
But it sure was funny to see his face once he realized what he had just said. 


This one actually has a blog post of it's own, but I think it deserves to be on this post as well:
Taylor (with a sad face): "You forgot my half birthday..."
Me: "What? When was it?"
Taylor: "February 1st."
Me: "Whoops. Sorry. But you didn't remember or celebrate mine on October 15th."
Taylor: "Well, we were on our honeymoon that day, so that's automatic celebration."
Me: "We weren't on our honeymoon on October 15th..."
Taylor: "Yes, we were..."
Me: "Taylor, our honeymoon was only five days."
Taylor: "Yeah, I know. We got married on the 11th. So we were still on our honeymoon on the 15th."
Me: "Are you serious?" Then I explode in violent laughter. "This is so sad."
Taylor just looked at me with a confused look and said, "The 11th..." in a small timid voice. Then a startled look of realization and immediate regret hit his face (an appropriate "oh shizzz" face), until he joined me in uncontrollable laughter.
We've only been married for 5 months and he's already forgotten that we were married on the 8th. And he can't even use old-age as an excuse...
Hope you enjoyed.  Look forward to Part 3 of the desired forgettable, yet unforgettable moments of marriage. Coming soon. :)

Love this boy, and love these moments.

Mangina.

Remember how I talked about the Mongolian BBQ Taylor and I went to on Friday? And remember how I said that I couldn't wait to go again?  Well, we went...again.  Here's what happened:

The past couple of weeks, Taylor has been having some strange chest/heart pains, among some other bizarre symptoms.  I finally decided to take charge, and scheduled a doctor's appointment for him.  He complained to me about it all weekend, and tried convincing me that he didn't need to go and see a doctor.  He told me he was perfectly healthy (which I responded with, "Then go and have your doctor tell you that, and I hope you prove me wrong!") and going to a doctor's appointment was silly.  

I jokingly diagnosed him with Angina (a heart condition, pronounced 'an-gyna'...which is what makes it so funny), which quickly turned into Mangina (thanks to Seth).  Taylor's Mangina has been the ongoing joke of the past few days.  Every time Seth sees him, he's sure to ask Taylor how his "Mangina" is doing. Ha.  Or, anytime Taylor does something wrong, drops something, or stumbles on his words, we quickly tell him, "Don't worry. It's just because of your Mangina."

Anyways, so of course, Taylor continued to complain all yesterday leading up to his afternoon appointment.  But I just stuck firm and continued to say, "We've got to get your Mangina checked by a doctor!"  

Taylor finally told me, "Okay, I will go to the doctor's happily if we can go to Mongolian BBQ tonight."

Done and done.

Even after that deal though, he still wasn't very happy about it...but I wasn't going to challenge him, because I really wanted Mongolian BBQ ;)    

To get me back, he teased me about having a fatal heart condition for the rest of the afternoon. 

Dear husband: that wasn't funny. Even though some of your comments made me laugh...it still wasn't funny. :)

Here's some proof via our texting conversation that day (excuse our frequent misspellings...there was a time that we cared about that {like when we were dating}, but that time has long since passed):

Anyways, long story short: Taylor's Mangina is a-okay!  Thank goodness!  He was given a few medications, and it's nothing too serious.  But I think the "mangina" term will stick around for awhile longer. ;)

And then, we celebrated the end of the day at our new favorite place:

See?  He smiles even with Mangina!

The desired forgettable, yet unforgettable moments of marriage

Part 1

We all have these moments, don't we?  You know, the moments that you never want to relive.  The moments that you pray everyone will forget.  The moments that make your cheeks turn red just thinking about it.  The moments you wish you could forget, but you know will never be forgotten.  Well, I figured since there was no hope of these memories ever being forgotten, I might as well record them.  So please, enjoy mine and Taylor's desired forgettable, yet unforgettable moments of marriage.

A couple of weeks before Taylor and I were married, Taylor's parents bought Taylor a brand new (and extremely nice!) suit.  A parting gift of sorts.  It was actually the suit picked out for him to wear for our wedding.  I loved it, and he sure looked handsome in it.  About two weeks after we were married, Taylor and I were getting ready for church, when the incident happened.  

Taylor turned to me and asked, "Have you seen my suit pants?"

"Nope, I don't think so."

"I swear I put them right here." Taylor said as he pointed to the end table at the foot of our bed.

My eyes widened with realization, "Oh no..."

"What?" Taylor asked.

I ran into the laundry room, opened the dryer, and rummaged through the warm clothes inside, silently praying that his suit pants would not be among the other clothes.  Sure enough, they were there.  I pulled them out slowly, and looked up at Taylor who had just walked in.  Taylor gingerly lifted the pants out of my hands and held them up.  His suit pants were now the size of twelve-year-old Taylor (or 21-year-old Kelli).  

My eyes filled with tears as I hurriedly tried to explain what had happened, "I'm so sorry! I grabbed the whole pile of clothes that was sitting on that table and just stuck them all in the washer.  I didn't look!  I know that you can't wash suit pants...I know that!  I just didn't look...I just assumed!  I'm so sorry! I'm such a horrible wife!"  I rambled, without pausing for breath.

With his emotions unreadable, Taylor looked at me for a few seconds, and then slowly, ever so slowly, broke into a smile.  "It's okay, Kells.  They're just pants.  And you're not a horrible wife." Taylor threw the now-ruined pants over his shoulder and bent down to kiss me softly.  "Really, it's okay."  I was shocked when Taylor broke into laughter.  How is he laughing!?

Regardless, I still felt awful inside (and still do to this day!).  As much as I want to forget this embarrassing event, it is absolutely unforgettable.  The story is told at many family events--how the brand new suit was ruined by the brand new wife. ;) As Taylor likes to say, "The bad news, is that I no longer have a sweet suit.  The good news?  I now have a sweet sports jacket."

RIP handsome suit...

Hello, sports jacket!

Or how about this:

A couple of months ago, I decided to try out a new recipe.  I had been looking forward to it for days, and was so excited to try it out.  I slaved in the kitchen, and then placed on the table what I thought looked like perfection. A delicious casserole.  I excitedly told Taylor dinner was ready, and scooped a hearty amount on each of our plates.  After prayer was said, we dug in.  After the first bite, I stopped and looked up at Taylor, as a look of disgust spread across my face.

"I think I put way too much salt into this!  It's so salty!"  The disappointment in my failure must have registered across my face. 

Taylor quickly took another bite and said, "I think it tastes great!"

I was surprised as he continued to take bite after bite.  Maybe I just happened to get a really salty bite?  So I took another bite. Just as salty as the first. "No, Taylor! This is so gross! How are you eating this!?"

Taylor shrugged and said, "It's good." Maybe I just happened to scoop all of the salty parts on my plate?  So I took a bite off of his plate. Just as salty. Yuck!  At this point, I was extremely confused.  I just looked at him and asked, "You really like it?"

Taylor smiled between bites, "Love it." And kept eating. Salty bite after salty bite.  I sat there in amazement and just watched him eat what tasted like pure salt cubes.  Taylor scraped the last bite off of his plate and then set his fork down.  "You did great, Kells.  That was delicious." 

My disappointment faded as I slowly said, "Well...at least you liked it..." I was still shocked that he had eaten his whole plate. But maybe my dinner wasn't a total failure after all! 

About an hour later, I found Taylor sprawled on the couch, with a pained look on his face.  

"You okay?" I asked him.

"Fine." He responded.

"You don't look okay.  Are you sick?"

Taylor opened his eyes as a half-smile spread across his face.  "Too much salt."

At first I was confused, but as realization hit, I started to laugh uncontrollably.  "Why did you keep eating it!?"  I asked him in between laughs.

"I just couldn't bare to see your disappointment.  I didn't want you to think that you failed."  Taylor squeezed his eyes shut and gave a small moan as his hand reached to his stomach.  He opened one eye and squinted up at me. "I don't think I liked that casserole..." And then, regardless of my guilt and Taylor's wounded stomach, neither one of us could control ourselves...we broke into uncontrollable laughter.  Now, every time I cook, Taylor has to monitor the salt amounts.  He will never let me forget this or live it down.

While this picture isn't directly related to the incident, I feel as if it captures
 my emotions during this particular dinner perfectly.

Now, don't be fooled.  Taylor isn't innocent of these particular incidents.  And here's proof:

On the way home from BYU one day, Taylor and I were talking about various things.  As we were walking to our front door, Taylor sighed heavily and said, "I wish I was single again." 

I whipped around, and exclaimed, "What?!"

Taylor's eyes grew wide as his hand slapped against his mouth. "That came out so wrong!  That's not what I meant!"  I could see Taylor's mind frantically backtracking, attempting to eat the words that had just come out of his mouth. "I was just reading about a study abroad through BYU...and I was thinking about how I wished I could do one...but you can't be married.  I don't really wish I was single again...I was just saying that...oh, geez. There's no way to recover from this one..."

Taylor covered his face with his hands, then, like a six-year-old boy, peeked through his fingers and asked quietly, "Forgive me?"

Of course, I forgave him.  But you'd be wrong if you assumed the whole incident was forgotten.  I've never let him live it down ;) My husband actually said, "I wish I was single again."
Definite wrong words to say. ;)
Even though he didn't mean it that way and wishes I'd forget about it altogether, I still like to tease him about it.

There are plenty more of these incidents within the Gilbert home.  That's why this is only Part 1.  Look forward to more.  And together, we'll record the desired forgettable yet unforgettable moments of our marriage.

Thank goodness for crazy love in these type of situations :)

     

If you love me...

It all started with this:

The past few days, Taylor has decided to "take over" my health.  Let me put it this way...I get sick a lot...a lot, a lot, a lot.  Due to the fact that I'm constantly with Tay, when I get sick, Taylor usually gets sick.  Perfect example: I was sick this last weekend, and of course, Taylor got sick from being around me.  Put bluntly, Taylor is sick of getting sick.  So, he bought supplement vitamins for me to take on a daily basis.  There's only one tiny problem: I HATE TAKING PILLS!  I know its all in my mind, but I want to gag every time I even think about it!

That being said, Taylor has been having a heck of a time trying to get me to take these pills.  Last night, it took a good 45 minutes of coaxing...or more correctly put, "threatening" and "forcing," me to take the pills.  It was a typical parent-sickchild situation.  I refused to take the pills, Taylor refused to let me leave the kitchen until I took the pills, I told him he was a big fat meany-head, he told me he didn't care.  I'm sure all parents can relate to this little situation.  It was actually quite a humorous situation.  Even though we were both stubborn, we couldn't help but laugh the whole time. Taylor says he'll be a pro at getting our kids to take medicine after dealing with me. ;)

Anyways, this morning, before Taylor left for work, he kissed me on the check and told me (as I was half-asleep),"If you love me, you will take your vitamins this morning."  About a half hour later, I woke up, got ready, and walked out the door...completely, 100% spacing the fact that I was supposed to take my pills (I have faked "forgetting" a few times the past couple of days...but this morning, I honestly forgot!).

When I picked Taylor up for lunch, he asked me, "Do you love me?"
My response: "Of course."
Taylor: "Well, good.  That means you took your pills."
My face must have given away the fact that I had not taken the pills, because he immediately put on his puppy-dog face and said, "You don't love me..."
I quickly said, "That's not fair!  You can't say "if you love me, do this....!"  Of course I love you!  That's like me saying, "If you love me, buy me a Macbook Pro today!"

About five hours later, I came home to find this:

I guess he's proven his point. And I guess he really does love me. :)

Happiness!!!

He can't even use old age as an excuse...

Welcome to mine and Taylor's conversation just a few minutes ago:

Taylor (with a sad face): "You forgot my half birthday..."
Me: "What? When was it?"
Taylor: "February 1st."
Me: "Whoops. Sorry. But you didn't remember or celebrate mine on October 15th."
Taylor: "Well, we were on our honeymoon that day, so that's automatic celebration."
Me: "We weren't on our honeymoon on October 15th..."
Taylor: "Yes, we were..."
Me: "Taylor, our honeymoon was only five days."
Taylor: "Yeah, I know. We got married on the 11th. So we were still on our honeymoon on the 15th."
Me: "Are you serious?" Then I explode in violent laughter. "This is so sad."

Taylor just looked at me with a confused look and said, "The 11th..." in a small timid voice. Then a startled look of realization and immediate regret hit his face (an appropriate "oh shizzz" face), until he joined me in uncontrollable laughter.

We've only been married for 5 months and he's already forgotten that we were married on the 8th. And he can't even use old-age as an excuse...

Fun fact: This picture hangs in our house. These same numbers were on our wedding announcement. These same numbers hang in our home. And yet, he still can't remember what day we were married.

Oh, how I love my dear clueless husband. :)